


Fond de l'Etang

by lovliboneless



Series: Fond de l'Étang [2]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Les chorites Au Sort of, Loosely based actually, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-13
Updated: 2013-09-28
Packaged: 2017-12-19 08:01:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/881398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovliboneless/pseuds/lovliboneless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The man retraced his steps and looked carefully at the sign beside the door: Fond de l'Etang, Internat. Reformatory institution for young men. This was the place he had been looking for.<br/>Les Chorsites based AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The end of a journey (Valjean)

**Author's Note:**

> Umm so this is really loosely based on les choristes so...a lot of things will vary and such.  
> The year is 1949  
> See the end for les amis' ages :)

Fond de l'Etang.

  
1.

  
The first time he saw the place he walked past by it, thinking it abandoned. From the road, for it couldn't be called a street, the man could barely discern the entire place, as it lay hidden behind a long road of trees followed by a tall white gate with a barely visible side inscription.

  
He continued wandering through the road until he noticed there were no more buildings past that point, just a very deep forest with some abandoned houses covered with moss. The man retraced his steps and looked carefully at the sign beside the door: Fond de l'Etang, Internat. Reformatory institution for young men. This was the place he had been looking for.

  
Fond de l'Etang, the bottom of the pond, upon reflection it seemed an appropriate name for a place that would be housing someone like him. A failed musical career, 19 years spent in jail, stole from the only person that had been good to him in the longest time he could remember, stole from a little boy. Yes, it seemed like this was the place to continue what the bishop had started. Where could a man like him begin if not at the bottom of a pond?

  
Just as he was about to ring the small bell on the side of the gate, a particularly strong gush of wind forced it open, welcoming him inside. There were no locks to keep the door from opening. Who would want to enter such a place anyway?

  
He had barely taken a step inside when he saw her. At the beginning of the road, under the first tree, lay sitting a small girl. The girl had yet to notice his presence as she had her enormous blue eyes fixed on the tree in front of her. She was extremely thin and had rags for clothing, her hair was opaque and her light blue eyes were surrounded by heavy dark circles. Her gaze seemed to wander through the woods until it abruptly landed on him, making her recoil and hug her knees instantly, as if protecting herself. They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity until the man cleared his throat.

  
"Girl, What are you doing here all alone? Aren't you cold?" He tried to speak with the softest voice he could manage, which made the words come out as a whisper. This, however seemed to put the girl at ease.

  
"It is a bit cold Monsieur. But you see, I'm waiting for Saturday." Her voice was thin yet beautiful, it resembled the quiet chirping of a lark.

  
"Why?"

  
"My mother, she'll come to pick me up on Saturday" The girl answered with more confidence as she slowly stood up to face the man.

  
The man examined her a little while longer before answering. The girl seemed to be older than he would have initially thought. Perhaps fourteen? She still looked incredibly thin however, and, upon closer look, very sad. "But today is not Saturday"

  
The girl's eyes immediately dropped down as she bit her lip, quietly muttering something under her breath and turning to look at the man once again.

  
Just as she opened her mouth to speak, a clear scream was heard in the distance accompanied by a shadow waving a pair of keys.

  
"Cosette! Cosette!" Shouted the shadow, which slowly took the form of an old man.

  
The girl, Cosette, immediately reacted to this shout and turned her head to gaze fondly at the old man. The barest hint of a smile could be discerned from her features as he drew closer.

  
The man, enraptured by the image before him, was taken aback when the old man eyed him suspiciously.

  
"Oh! I'm sorry. My name is Jean Valjean. I'm the new tutor" He extended his hand at the old man and gave him an earnest look.

  
The old man's weary look changed for a wide smile and shook his hand energetically. "Come in by all means Monsieur Valjean, I'm Fauchelevent"

  
Fauchelevent guided him slowly through the road, having Cosette by his side to help him through the roughest parts until they finally arrived at the main school building.

  
The three story high building had a light grey color, was very wide, had very few old and mostly broken windows facing the road and a slim black rusty gate. More than a school, even if a reformatory one, it looked like a hundred year old jail.

  
Reaching inside one at a time through the small door, they saw two girls walk past by them. One, tall and with a serious expression who ignored them completely, while the other, who was small and appeared to be laughing at something the elder had said, quickly waved at them as she hurried to catch up with her sister.

  
"Monsieur Fauchelevent, I'm sorry if I'm addressing something that is not of my business, but I thought this was an all men institution, and so far all I have seen is girls"

  
Fauchelevent eyed him with a somber expression before laughing. “It is an all men school, but you see, the school must be kept clean as it is, so there is a pair who lives in the cot beside the school who takes care of that. The girls you saw walk by are their daughters. While this girl, well..." He hesitated for a moment and looked at Cosette's retreating back as she ran up the main building's stairs. "Her mother used to occupy the cot in which the Thénardiers live now, but some years ago she had to stay some weeks in the town's hospital because of an unexpected sickness, and well... you might imagine that she never came back." A sad smile. "She, however, told Cosette she would return for her on Saturday, and the child's been waiting for her ever since."

  
Valjean stopped short at this statement. "Nobody has told her that her mother died then?"

  
"Oh no, we did tell her, but she wouldn't listen. Stubborn girl that she is. She just kept waiting for her at the front gate you just saw. She would have been long gone actually, if the state had decided to take her, but the director, Monsieur Javert, has let her stay here. You'll probably see her often, she occupies the room next to yours.”

  
The two men continued walking in silence as they reached the main staircase by which Cosette had disappeared minutes ago. No sound could be heard but that of their steps as they got to the top of the stairs. The same chilling soundless atmosphere that they had encountered at the stairs seemed to follow them through the hallway, until they heard a small sound. The soft sweeping of a brush on the floor. The sound was eventually accompanied by the sight of a boy, a young man more specifically, kneeling at the floor brushing it repeatedly. He had curly brown hair and a playful yet weary smile.

  
"What is he doing?" The Thénardiers surely couldn't be so young.

  
"Who? Courfeyrac? He's in detention, Monsieur Javert assigned him that punishment. Fifteen days of communitary service for the school. Cleaning, sweeping, just helping the Thénardiers keep the school clean."

  
"What did he do to have a two week detention?"

  
"I don't really know, I'm just in charge of the infirmary and the garden, but I'm sure Monsieur Javert had his reasons to assign such a long detention to this boy. Don't let his sweet smile deceive you." Although it was evident that the last words were meant to sound harsh, Valjean couldn't help noticing the slight smile that accompanied them.

  
"Anyway, let me show you the infirmary, and later you can accompany me to the garden if you want."

  
"I would like that very much."

  
Fauchelevent struggled with the small infirmary door for a few seconds, wearing a confused frown on his face.

  
"Please let me help you" Valjean approached to door to force it open when a clear and commanding voice was heard in the hall.

  
"You must be Monsieur Valjean. I am Javert, the director of this institution” The man standing at the end of the hall, Javert, had an astoundingly clean yet somber look. Clean in every aspect of his exterior, the shine of his shoes, no sign of beard in his face and a high forehead with no signs of disheveled hairs in it. Yet the gaze with which he examined Valjean appeared to be somber and judging, he was the kind of men who couldn't look at something without passing some kind of judgment over it.

  
Valjean extended his hand with a small smile. "It is good to finally meet you Monsieur Javert."

  
Javert continued to look at Valjean with judging eyes until he finally extended his hand and firmly shook it. "You will call me Monsieur Directeur. As I'm sure you'll know soon enough for I want you to read and memorize the rules of this school by tomorrow." He gestured the staircase signaling that he wanted Valjean to accompany him.

  
"Now...." Javert had started, being interrupted by a clear sound of discomfort coming from the infirmary, where Fauchelevent clutched at his stomach in intense pain.

  
Valjean quickly ran towards the agonizing man while the director simply ignored him in favor of looking at the door carefully. "Aha! It was one of those young delinquents who did this!" He said as he clutched a piece of glass fiercely.

  
Javert continued to rant silently through the hall while Valjean laid the old man on the infirmary bed, because of the distance and the silent voice that Javert seemed to prefer using, he discerned just a few words from his monologue. "Trap!" "Messing" "Delinquents" "Justice". The man clearly lived for these moments, he didn't seem all that preoccupied with old Fauchelevent's wound, instead, he looked like he was excited to finally find a cause for which he could punish the students of the school.

  
He abruptly shook Valjean at the shoulders. His eyes were aflame "Ring the bell! We are having an assembly right this instant"

  
Valjean grabbed the bell by the door and started quickly ringing it. Short moments later he heard a large number of voices coming from the stairs, accompanied by the sound of quick steps. When he could finally see the boys, he felt somewhat relieved. A lot of these men, adolescents, were laughing and chatting with each other. Surely none of those happy boys could be at fault for this!

  
He could hear small parts of different conversations while the group went out to the courtyard.

  
"Maybe there's a plague and they want to put us in quarantine!"

  
"I think I just broke an arm"

  
"Must the lesson be interrupted like this?"

  
"A brawl surely"

  
"Javert will answer for the injustice he committed against Courfey..." This last phrase stopped short as the boy turned to stare at him with cold eyes. He appeared to be quite young, seventeen at most, had very sweet yet cold as ice blue eyes and long beautiful blond hair that went long past his shoulders and which was only tamed by a black ribbon. The boy, just like the director had some minutes ago, appeared to be passing some kind of judgment of him, but instead of looking at him up and down, as Javert had, his gaze remained fixed in his eyes. The stare only stopped when the teacher accompanying them shoved the judger into the yard shouting for him to hurry up.

  
Javert eyed carefully the rows that had been formed in the courtyard and nodded. Barely a hundred students could be discerned, all young, but none younger than fifteen. "I'm certain that at least some of you know why we are here." Silence. "We're here because there has just been a violent attack on old Fauchelevent, and as I personally examined the evidence, there is certainly someone guilty for this crime and that person must answer for his crimes!" Some of the students looked horrified, yet, must of them remained indifferent.

  
"The guilty must hand himself right this moment or all of the others shall face six hours of detention"

  
At this, the blond judge from earlier, sparked up instantaneously. "This is an injustice! If there has to be something let it be a fair trial where all can defend themselves! How can you possibly condemn all these innocents? While I'm certain that a horrible act was committed to the citizen..." His voice was clear and loud, and while he spoke all the present listened with rapt attention, even Valjean was enraptured by the passion of this young man.

  
However enraptured as they all were, Javert remained composed at this. "Well then, perhaps the monsieur would like to volunteer?"

  
The student next to the blond judge, as Valjean named him in his head, a student with brown hair and cracked old glasses elbowed his friend quickly, signaling him to remain clam, or silent. Perhaps both. The blond bit his lip strongly as if it was physically hurting him not to speak.

  
Javert continued. "Now, as none of you want to volunteer, I will have your new tutor Monsieur Valjean choose a name from the record to see who will be punished first." Valjean slowly walked towards the book that Javert was holding in his hands, not without calmly whispering to the director. "I'm sure it isn't necessary to punish all of them?" Javert gave him the book sternly while answering, "Of course it is necessary. They are delinquents. All of them, now choose a name"

  
Valjean wavered for a second before choosing the first name he saw on the list. "Pontmercy?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also quick note, the ages of les amis are as follows:  
> Enjolras-18  
> Grantaire-20  
> Courfyerac-18  
> Feuilly-20  
> Combeferre-19  
> Joly-17  
> Bossuet-20  
> Bahorel-20  
> Jehan-18  
> Marius-18  
> Cosette-14  
> Éponine-16  
> 


	2. Detention

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So short chapter is short :c sorry but I'll be updating a lot more frequently now c: Anyways there's some E POV in this chapter.

2.

Valjean wavered for a second before choosing the first name he saw on the list. "Pontmercy?"

As soon as the name left his mouth he knew he was going to regret it, if the dumbfounded looks he received from the boys at the front row and Javert's twitching eyebrow gave any indication at all. A short silent moment followed, in which all the students kept looking towards the back of the courtyard. Javert cleared his throat. "You heard your tutor, Monsieur Pontmercy come to the front."

The teacher who had pushed the blond judge into the courtyard sprung up and went all the way towards the back row, carrying back by the wrist a stunned thin and freckled student.

While the boy silently stuttered claiming his innocence, a chaos formed around the two figures. Several pleads in favour of Pontmercy were heard, leaded by the blond judge from earlier, who now seemed even more exalted than before."Directeur Javert! You clearly know that Marius is innocent, in all the time he has been here he has made no disruptions to your so called order. Listen to his plead! I'm sure that, if not him, several of us can convince you that he is as innocent as he claims."

This impassioned claim only seemed to make a vein throb in Javert's forehead. "Clearly you have not been listening to what I've been saying. Enjolras" He seemed to spit the name out.

"You will all receive punishment for this action until a culprit is found, and, unless you want to be in solitary confinement for the next days, I suggest you keep your social preaching to yourself."

The young man, Enjorlas, with the sweet yet flaming blue eyes stared evenly towards him, and, then, with steeling conviction set his eyes on Javert. "If that is what's going to take for you to listen to me, well then, so be it." An uproar erupted in the courtyard.

"Enjolras, consider what you're doing. Are you certain of this?" The student with the cracked old glasses turned to his friend.

"Apollo! Let the directeur follow his ways of injustice, your sacrifice will do nothing to deter him!" A black haired lanky and ragged student at the front row followed, muttering under his breath in a voice so low that even Valjean, being so near him barely heard. "Don't go, or I'll have to follow".

Javert, unfazed, by what was going around him shouted in a commanding voice "Silence!"  
"Don't worry Monsieur Enjolras, you will have your solitary confinement soon enough, for now, and until we find the guilty, Pontmercy and all of you delinquents will be punished with six hours of solitary confinement each."

Valjean turned to the director horrified. "Please Monsieur Directeur, I'm certain that none of these young men are at a fault for this. It must have been an accident."Javert, arching an eyebrow at him, answered mildly. "You are full of good intentions I'm sure Monsieur Valjean, however, you should spend a week in the presence of these delinquents and I'm sure you'll be thinking differently by the end of it. Come see me then. The old tutor will show you to your room"  
And with that he was gone.

\-------

Ever since he had been left there by his parents, Enjolras had always known that at one point or another he would be getting out of the reformatory, either his mother would decide she wanted him as a prize son again (which, at this point, was highly unlikely), or he would get old enough to get out of there. However, he didn't know anymore if he really wanted to leave.

Of course he was tired of the incessant injustices and the stoic and conservative character of the director, but it was because of this that he wanted to stay. He knew that a lot of his friends still had several years to live under that roof, and he wanted to make sure that they wouldn't have to suffer from the overly repressing rules at the institute.

That's why, when he saw that there was a new tutor he tried to deliberate if he was just another weak spirited tool sent in to try to "control" them or if he was going to pose a real threat. As the assembly in the courtyard ended and they returned to their classroom he was certainly leaning towards the former. However this was a matter that he would have to think about later, as there were more pressing needs at hand, specifically, Marius.

He ran up a little to catch up with Combeferre who was getting to the top of the stairs. "Do you think there's a way to get Marius out of the solitary confinement punishment?" Combeferre had always been better at assessing situations more objectively than him, which was why he always valued his output of the situations.

"I think there's very little that we can do Enjolras, we could send some letters to the board and have them talk with the director, but that could take up a few weeks at least."

"Let's do that for now and then think of another way to solve this. Javert can't continue doing this, we will have to overthrow his authority at some point, you know it Combeferre."

A loud sigh near interrupted their conversation, having them turn around towards the sound. It was Grantaire.

"Apollo you know that the board doesn't give a flying fuck about us, and overthrowing Javert? What is this 1789? If we were to somehow manage to make him quit they would just send someone else, harsher even. I think we should just leave things as they are." He stared evenly towards Enjolras, his voice sounding tired and bitter.

Enjolras stepped down to level with Grantaire on the stairs.

"Then we would find another way. We'll overthrow whoever they send us, that'll teach them that the students won't let themselves be dismissed and repressed by the authority. That the people have much more power than them, that injustice will not be tolerated and that we won't give up until the system changes." He tried to speak as calmly as possible, but with Grantaire reason and calm always seemed to evade him, leaving behind nothing but passion and anger in his voice.

"Or until one of us ends up in jail" Grantaire's tone was cynic, mocking even, but his eyes had a look of tired resignation.

"Then we fight to get that person out of jail! Listen Grantaire if you're not going to do anything but get drunk on the wine you keep behind your bed then at least stop wasting our time by mocking our causes." He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, he was exasperated by Grantaire's constant cynism, yes, but he was still his friend, even if at times it didn't seem like so. Regret or not, he wasn't about to take the words back even if he wanted to. Instead he tried to close his eyes to forget the look of hurt that flashed over the cynic's face.

"I'm going then, I don't want to waste anymore of your time." He ran past by them to join Joly and Bossuet who were just going into the classroom they all shared.

Combeferre let out sigh. "Must you always be so hard on him? You know he says things like that because he cares for us Enjolras"

"If he cared for us he would support our causes!" He knew he was still shouting, but he couldn't help it. Fighting with the black haired man always had that effect on him, he made him irrational, passionate, like he wanted to continue fighting forever and yet, to never fight again. It was a strong feeling, one that he was used to feeling only when he was fighting for injustice and inequality.

Combeferre adjusted his glasses reflexively and opted for simply grabbing his best friend by the shoulder, guiding him into the classroom "Just consider it."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhh sorry for the delay, anyway hope you enjoy! Also if you have time say hi on tumblr! lovliboneless.tumblr.com

 

Valjean entered his new room in a somber demeanor."I think I have condemned an innocent boy" he whispered to himself while reaching the window and placing his briefcase on the table next to it.

Just as he was about to start unpacking his things he heard a soft creak on the bed at the corner of the room.

It was the girl from before, the one he had encountered at the gate, Cosette. Had she always been there? How come he hadn't noticed her when he had entered the room?

"I didn't see you there Cosette." The girl who seemed frightened at first, smiled at the mention of her name.

"I came here to tell you something Monsieur...I..." her wide blue eyes turned to the floor. "I know who injured Monsieur Fauchelevent"

Valjean sighed, at least those who were innocent would be spared the punishment."Who was it?"

"Um, it was a boy, his name is Montparnasse. He's easy to notice, he has this pretty black hair." She looked up towards the window.

"Thank you Cosette, this is very helpful. I'm glad you told me."

"You seem like a good man Monsieur, but you always look so sad..." At this he tried to appear happier, his smile almost reaching his eyes.

She laughed quietly, delighted with herself. "I think your class is right now Monsieur, you shouldn't be late or the Directeur will get angry."

"Oh! Right Thank you again Cosette." She nodded and disappeared slowly through the door.

 

\--------------------

Valjean walked quickly towards the classroom that the young men at the institute shared, halting before the door as he heard the distinct sound of screaming coming from inside. An old man who had probably been teaching the class before him apperead through the door, raising an eyebrow as soon as he saw him.

"You're the new tutor I assume?"

"Yes, nice to meet you I'm Jean Valjean"

"Huh. I wonder how long you'll last... If you want a piece of advice, look out for Montparnasse, Babet and Gueulemer."

"Montparnasse, Baber and Gueulemer, right. Thank you very much sir." He took a deep breath and just as he was about to turn the knob , the old man cleared his throat.

"You should also remember the name Enjolras. A troublemaker that one, he might seem good at first but...you'll see." He continued his way through the hallway.  
Valjean finally entered the room. The first sight that greeted him was chaos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God this is sort of short. i swear thiings will happen on the next chapter c:


End file.
